Push Me Down
by thethirteenthdoctor
Summary: Set at Hogwarts; everything else OC. The tale of a pureblooded Slytherin girl with an influential family and a secret, and a Muggleborn Hufflepuff who's good at Quidditch and hiding from her aforementioned classmate/tormentor, both in their fourth year; a cautious dance, half-hidden by shadow, of secrets and second chances, puffy green eyes and dirty Converse.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a fic I wrote from an idea that a fandom page on Instagram posted about and I decided to flesh out. So, yeah. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Hogwarts, the Ministry, the Houses, "Mudblood", "Muggle", etc. belong to the lovely Miss Joanne Kathleen Rowling, whom we all love and adore, as well as worship and make ritual human sacrifices to. The idea for this story came from the lovely Ana, whom we all love and adore as well (and perhaps in whose name a few squirrels or crows are killed), but who has not yet achieved the status of most venerated and blood-soaked deity. The characters themselves and most of the plot details were created by me, to whom no one sacrifices small animals or the most deserving among humans, to the best of my knowledge.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Auva hefted her bookbag onto her back, huffing a bit at the weight. She strode out of the classroom, her followers trailing behind her. They raced to catch up with her when she had stepped into the long stone corridor. Red leaves fluttered occasionally through the arches of the courtyard and crisp breezes brushed against green ties as the group of half a dozen chattered about homework and politics and family connections, Auva ignoring them completely until her name was mentioned- as usual.<p>

"Auva!" a high-pitched voice said.

"Mmm. Yes, Bates?" she responded uncaringly.

"Does your mother plan to take part in the werewolf vote?"

"Of course. Haven't you _heard_ that she's leading the reform movement? And that's Kemsley to you, Bates."

Someone snickered.

Kenna Freck gasped softly. "Oh, Auva, look who it is!"

The raven-haired ringleader turned, her gaze following Freck's to a wavy waterfall of red hair crossing the courtyard, one or two leaves caught in it and nearly matching its colour. A tiny, cruel smile found its way across Auva's lips. "The Mudblood," she breathed. Cloth swished as the group of Slytherins automatically turned and made its way toward the owner of the hair. Their target noticed them quickly and froze, smile melting. Auva approached the Mudblood first, as always. She looked into blue eyes, then let her gaze drop to a yellow-and-black tie.

"Well, Collins, another year at Hogwarts, yes? I hope you're grateful. My mother was almost able to get all of you Mudbloods expelled."

"I'm afraid I'm glad she failed, then," admitted Nora Collins with her infuriatingly unaffected Irish lilt. "I hope you enjoy your year, Auva."

Auva sneered. "How _dare _you be so presumptuous as to think you may use my first name. Treat your betters with more respect, Mudblood. You don't deserve to be here. Don't think yourself equal to those of us who do."

Collins maintained eye contact with Auva for a moment longer before looking at her own Converse, then walked away slowly, a soft "My apologies, Kemsley" lingering in the early October breeze.

Auva smiled. She was looking forward to an enjoyable fourth year.

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><p><strong>AN: Yeah, I know it was short. All the chapters in this fic will be relatively short, I think, but there should be a good number of them!**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Short, as promised.**

**Enjoy and review!**

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><p>Snow was coming, Auva concluded as she inhaled deeply. It always seemed to come shortly after All Hallow's.<p>

She walked across the grounds toward the castle, alone. Her "friends" would find her soon, but she had at least this moment to herself. Ducking past the great pendulum into the courtyard, she smiled softly. Winter was her favorite time of year.

Derisive voices echoed across the courtyard into Auva's ears. She turned toward their source, a group of students from her own House crowded around something- or someone. Her crisp footsteps echoed against the stone of the courtyard as she made her way to see what the fuss was all about. The answer quickly became apparent when she caught a glimpse of bright red hair between the legs of her classmates. The usual taunts found their way to her ears: "useless," "Mudblood," "worthless," etc., but the moment she reached the group of Slytherins, a different word struck her, spoken clearly by a fifth-year. "Faggot."

Auva froze, then pushed to the center of the group and stood above Collins, who was sitting on the ground, knees to chest. "What's going on?" she demanded.

Freck laughed. "Auva, haven't you heard? Collins is a _queer._"

The last word rung in Auva's head, and she felt her hands clench into fists. A thousand thoughts flickered past her consciousness. This was wrong. She had hurt and insulted this girl a hundred times over the past years; one need not be a psychiatrist to see that her moral compass was practically nonexistent and tended to point south, but _this_ was over the line, this was wrong. The other students continued to taunt Collins. Auva didn't know what to do. She could walk away. She could join in. She could- she could stand up for Collins, be cast out and likely discovered. Yet she could stand up for Collins, this one thing that was _right_, one single right in the sea of wrongs she had done this girl. Logic. She needed logic. Pros and cons.

"No wonder your parents send you here, even Muggles must not want you."

Auva's blood boiled. The words, not even directed toward her, felt like a burning sword thrust into her gut. Thoughts left her mind. "Stop this," she said, her voice loud and clear. "Stop this, now."

A silence, however temporary, fell over the small group, faces twisted in confusion. Elena Bates turned to face her. "Why should we do that? Standing up for the Mudblood, are we now? What, are you a faggot too?"

Still in the heat of anger, Auva looked Bates in the eye and stated calmly, "You have fantastic breasts."

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><p><strong>You are amazing for reading this. Thank you!<strong>

**Please review! Also, any way I can get more attention for my stories that you know of?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: OH.**

**MY.**

**GOD.**

**I AM SO, SO SORRY AND ASHAMED OF MYSELF.**

**THERE ARE NO WORDS THAT CAN COME EVEN CLOSE TO ACCURATELY CONVEYING THE EXTENT AND POTENCE OF MY EXTREME DISTRESS AND MORTIFICATION.**

**This is not a new chapter. This is the re-publication of the original third chapter after said original third chapter was recalled due to the author's realization that they had done THE MOST UNFORGIVABLY PATHETIC AND IDIOTIC THING THAT ANY WRITER COULD POSSIBLY DO: _they had published an UNFINISHED CHAPTER with AN ENORMOUS, GAPING, PAINFULLY OBVIOUS BLACK HOLE OF AN OMISSION RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE._**

**Is there any way at all that I might even begin to earn your forgiveness? (Besides update, as I will be doing that hopefully within the hour. I owe you that much.) Seriously, anything. Any silly little story you want me to write or whatever, I will _pour my f*cking soul into that pointless fluffy oneshot. _I mean it. Don't be shy. Anything I can do for you.**

**I am basically the most despicable human being on the face of the planet. My absolute sincerest apologies go to each and every person who read the original third chapter.**

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><p>The sound of water against white porcelain filled the bathroom. Auva cupped her hands beneath the faucet, interrupting the flow. It had been a week since the Incident, as she called it, and she had been avoiding her once-followers fairly well, though she was unable to escape them entirely. They- Bates especially- seemed to take great pleasure in taunting her now, and had threatened multiple times to tell her mother.<p>

She looked up from the sink into the mirror above it, into a pale face, into green eyes rimmed with soft red. Her gaze traced high cheekbones and tear tracks, swollen lips and a pink nose. The edge of the sink was cold against her palms. Another tear escaped her left eye, and she wiped it away, almost angrily. Hands gripping the sides of the sink, she lowered her head, staring at the drain. One secret left. She still had one. It was a small reassurance, but she held it like a lifeline.

A movement in the mirror caught her attention. The door to the girls' bathroom had swung open without her notice, and Nora Collins had stepped through it. Auva looked away and sighed. "Come to gloat, then, have you? You've waited long enough."

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her away from the sink. Obeying, she came face-to-face with Collins, who took in all the signs on Auva's face.

"Here," she said quietly, retrieving a soft cloth from her own inside coat pocket and using it to dry Auva's cheeks.

Auva had stiffened under Collins's touch, but felt her muscles relax slowly. "You shouldn't take it personally, you know," Collins continued after a while. "It's not your fault. For some reason, they need to feel that they're better than someone, and you're different from them, which makes you an easy target."

"Why aren't you at dinner?" Auva asked slowly.

"I'm not hungry," was the soft reply.

There was a heavy silence as Collins continued to brush away the wetness from Auva's face and neck.

"Why don't you hate me?" Auva couldn't believe she'd said it. She hadn't wanted to say it. She wanted to fly down into a U-bend like Moaning Myrtle. Why had she said it?

Collins paused for what seemed like a very long time. "I've… never hated you. I've never liked you, either, but… After, you know, what you did, I have hope- I believe- that you can… that you are better than I thought you were."

"Collins… I…"

"Nora, please."

"Nora." The word was strange and sort of beautiful. It felt like a badge, an honor. "Nora, I'm sorry."

Collins- Nora- looked into Auva's eyes, and Auva lost herself in a sea of blue. The next thing she knew, Nora's arms were around her, and her own hands had moved of their own accord to rest against Nora's back. They stood like that for a while, the Hufflepuff and the Slytherin, Auva resting her forehead on Nora's shoulder and Nora's lips against Auva's temple.

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><p><strong>AN: So.**

**What do you think?**

**Thoughts, ideas, anything, everything, all welcomed.**

**Again, I'm sorry. Ugh.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I hope you enjoy the chapter! It will be getting more intense from here and I think you'll be seeing some character development going on! **

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><p>The green light of the lake made everything look nicer, Auva thought. She had always believed that. Even the most difficult Astronomy work seemed beautiful when lit by green and gold. Her theory held true even now. Dancing light and flickering shadows caressed mistreated skin and masked brilliant blues and purples that flowered across it.<p>

The Slytherin dormitories were a blessing, truly. Auva had no room-mates, her walls were completely sound-proof, and the little silver key hidden in her shoe locked the door so firmly that really only the headmaster could possibly get in. Her life would have been hell if she had been forced to share her dormitory.

In the past month and a half, she had become nearly as skillful at avoiding a large number of people all the time as Nora Collins was. Incidentally, Nora Collins was also one of the people whom Auva was avoiding. Nora was very, very kind to Auva, and that was exactly the problem. Why on earth would Nora be kind to the girl who had set nearly an eighth of the school against her and who had never once said a single word to her that might imply anything but the deepest distaste? Originally, Auva had wondered whether it might be simply because Collins was a kind person, a good person. However, she had immediately laughed at herself for even considering it. Auva knew that good people didn't exist. Kind and good were just words for people who wanted something, and had a particularly clever plan to get it. That was not a falsity taught to her simply by some cruelty inflicted upon her or surrounding her, it was a lesson taught to her by reality. Of course cruelty was part of it. Reality was cruel. The gods were cruel. Everyone was cruel. That was the point of the lesson. While, perhaps, the entirety of humanity was not inherently cruel, something about reality turned anything true and natural that could be described as 'good' that might be in people into cruelty. It was more likely, of course, that humanity was, in itself, evil. Either way, the fact remained that all people were cruel and deceptive, and neither law nor spell nor religion could change that fact. That was the truth. Auva had learned early that a person's outward appearance is a disguise for their true personality and intent. Whatever a person claimed their motives were, Auva had learned to analyze their actions herself in the hopes of getting a peek under the hood. And of Collins, the motive of 'simply being a good person' could be nowhere near the truth, Auva knew. Lying there, sprawled across green bedclothes, she thought about that. She had thought about this many times, and she had always come to this conclusion. Had she been Collins, she would have seen her enemy's Luciferian fall as, finally, an opportunity to exact revenge for years of torment. Under no circumstances would she have truly forgiven her enemy even half as quickly as Collins had pretended to, if she ever would. She might well have feigned forgiveness in a well-planned attempt to gain her enemy's trust and use it to push her even lower, so Collins must have done no differently.

_Of course,_ murmured a traitorous corner of her mind, _perhaps it's simply because she's a better person than you, and thus doesn't act as viciously as you._

Her mind needed to stop doing that. She was right. She knew she was right.

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><p><strong>AN: What did you think? Please please please please please plEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEAS E PLE AS REVIEW !**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Look how often I'm updating!**

**Happy MLK day!**

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><p><em>Oh<em>,_ darling,_ breathed another of the voices in Auva's head that she thought some called a conscience. She didn't believe in such things. _You spend so much time pondering the motives of an odd little Hufflepuff, reminding yourself of how certain you are of your conclusion. So much time spent vehemently denying the very possibility of this one girl being truly kind to you, the possibility that when she held you that day, she meant it, the possibility that her care is genuine, the possibility that she is truly good and sweet and caring and a person to be _liked._ You've fallen in love with her, haven't you?_

Auva was going mad. A voice in her head was telling her that she was in love with her worst enemy. She was _not _'in love' with Nora. She was simply confused by Collins's actions and thus quite wary of her motives. She decisively reminded herself of that.

_Ah, but you are sweet,_ the soft voice continued. Auva hated that voice. That bit of her mind was always making her think about how she felt, and she hated it. She hated that stupid imaginary voice with its stupid imaginary Irish accent- what. She stopped herself from thinking any more. _Even in your mind, in your subconscious, you wear that little badge of honor with such respect. Oh, Nora was so kind to you. Why ever was Nora so kind to you? Collins couldn't possibly have been genuine. Collins, Collins, Collins. Bad, bad, bad. You don't trust Collins. Collins wants revenge. You aren't in love with Nora. You know that Collins is out to get you. Darling, isn't it obvious? You think of her as Nora when you think good things about her. Perhaps that's because you can't call her Nora when you think bad things about her. Her name, your right to use it, must never be poisoned by accusations of malevolence. Don't deny it. I know how you think. But knowing this rule of Nora is for nice thoughts, Collins is for bad, what do you make of 'I'm not in love with Nora'? Of course, if you _do _love her, then that's a lie, and lies aren't nice. Yet, if it's the _truth_, that would mean that you truly hate her as much as you tell yourself you do, which is certainly not a good or kind thought. _Nora _is for nice thoughts, and since not being in love with Nora is not an especially nice thought, we can conclude that your usage of the word in your denial of affection for her betrays a willfully subdued and stubbornly denied feeling that the idea of being in love with Nora is a nice thought, a thought that makes you happy._

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><p><strong>AN: What do you think? Getting intense?**

**Review PLEASE!**


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